A residence in India, productive
as it may
be (to many) of pecuniary benefits, presents, however, a few
inconveniences
to Europeans independent of climate, --which, in the absence of more
severe
trials, frequently become a source of disquiet, until habit has
reconciled,
or reflection disposed the mind to receive the mixture of evil and good
which is the common lot of man in every situation of life. I might
moralise
on the duty of intelligent beings suffering patiently those trials
which
human ingenuity cannot avert, even if this world's happiness were the
only
advantage to be gained; but when we reflect on the account we have to
give
hereafter, for every thought, word, or action, I am induced to believe,
the well-regulated mind must view with dismay a retrospect of the past
murmurings of which it has been guilty. But I must bring into view the
trials of patience which our countrymen meet while in India, to those
who
have neither witnessed nor [Transcriber's note: illegible] them; many
of
them present slight, but living, op[Transcriber's note: illegible]
those
evils with which the Egyptians were visited for their impiety to Heaven.

Frogs, for instance, harmless
as these
creatures are in their nature, occasion no slight inconvenience to the
inhabitants of India. They enter their house in great numbers and,
without
much care, would make their way to the beds, as they do to the
chambers;
the croaking during the rainy season is almost deafening, particularly
towards the evening and during the night. Before the morning has well
dawned,
these creatures creep into every open doorway, and throughout the day
secrete
themselves under the edges of mattings and carpets, to the annoyance of
those who have an antipathy to these unsightly looking creatures.

The myriads of flies which fill
the rooms,
and try the patience of every observer of nice order in an English
establishment,
may bear some likeness to the plague which was inflicted on Pharaoh and
his people, as a punishment for their hardness of heart. The flies of
India
have a property not common to those of Europe, but very similar to the
green fly of Spain: when bruised, they will raise a blister on the
skin,
and, I am told, are frequently made use of by medical gentlemen as a
substitute
for the Spanish fly.[1]

If but one wing or leg of a fly
is by
any accident dropped into the food of an individual, and swallowed, the
consequence is an immediate irritation of the stomach, answering the
purpose
of a powerful emetic. At meals the flies are a pest, which most people
say they abhor, knowing the consequences of an unlucky admission into
the
stomach of the smallest particle of the insect. Their numbers exceed
all
calculation; the table is actually darkened by the myriads,
particularly
in the season of the periodical rains. The Natives of India use muslin
curtains suspended from the ceiling of their hall at meal times, which
are made very full and long, so as to enclose the whole dinner party
and
exclude their tormentors.

The biles or blains, which all
classes
of people in India are subject to, may be counted as amongst the
catalogue
of Pharaoh's plagues. The most healthy and the most delicate, whether
Europeans
or Natives, are equally liable to be visited by these eruptions, which
are of a painful and tedious nature. The causes inducing these biles no
one, as yet, I believe, has been able to discover, and therefore a
preventive
has not been found. I have known people who have suffered every year
from
these attacks, with scarce a day's intermission during the hot
weather.[2]

The musquitoes, a species of
gnat, tries
the patience of the public in no very measured degree; their malignant
sting is painful, and their attacks incessant; against which there is
no
remedy but patience, and a good gauze curtain to the beds. Without some
such barrier, foreigners could hardly exist; certainly they never could
enjoy a night's repose. Even the mere buzzing of musquitoes is a source
of much annoyance to Europeans: I have heard many declare the bite was
not half so distressing as the sound. The Natives, both male and
female,
habitually wrap themselves up so entirely in their chuddah[3] (sheet)
that
they escape from these voracious insects, whose sounds are so familiar
to them that it may be presumed they lull to, rather than disturb their
sleep.

The white ant is a cruel
destroyer of
goods: where it has once made its domicile, a real misfortune may be
considered
to have visited the house. They are the most destructive little insects
in the world doing as much injury in one hour as a man might labour
through
a long life to redeem. These ants, it would seem, have no small share
of
animosity to ladies' finery, for many a wardrobe have they demolished,
well filled with valuable dresses and millinery, before their vicinity
has even been suspected, or their traces discovered. They destroy beams
in the roofs of houses, chests of valuable papers, carpets, mats, and
furniture,
with a dispatch which renders them the most formidable of enemies,
although
to appearance but a mean little insect.

There is one season of the year
when
they take flight, having four beautiful transparent wings; this occurs
during the periodical rains, when they are attracted by the lights of
the
houses, which they enter in countless numbers, filling the tables, and
whilst flitting before the lights disencumber themselves of their
wings.
They then become, to appearance, a fat maggot, and make their way to
the
floors and walls, where it is supposed they secrete themselves for a
season,
and are increasing in numbers whilst in this stage of existence. At the
period of their migration in search of food, they will devour any
perishable
materials within their reach. It is probable, however, that they first
send out scouts to discover food for the family, for the traces of
white
ants are discovered by a sort of clay-covered passage, formed as they
proceed
on their march in almost a direct line, which often extends a great
distance
from their nest.

To mark the economy of ants has
sometimes
formed a part of my amusements in Hindoostaun.[4] I find they all have
wings at certain seasons of the year; and more industrious little
creatures
cannot
exist than the small red ants, which are so abundant in India. I have
watched
them at their labours for hours without tiring; they are so small that
from eight to twelve in number labour with great difficulty to convey a
grain of wheat or barley; yet these are not more than half the size of
a grain of English wheat. I have known them to carry one of these
grains
to their nest at a distance of from six hundred to a thousand yards;
they
travel in two distinct lines over rough or smooth ground, as it may
happen,
even up and down steps, at one regular pace. The returning unladen ants
invariably salute the burthened ones, who are making their way to the
general
storehouse; but it is done so promptly that the line is neither broken
nor their progress impeded by the salutation.

I was surprised one morning in
my breakfast
parlour to discover something moving slowly up the wall; on approaching
near to examine what it was, I discovered a dead wasp, which the
khidmutghar[5]
(footman) had destroyed with his chowrie during breakfast, and which,
falling
on the floor, had become the prize of my little friends (a vast
multitude),
who were labouring with their tiny strength to convey it to their nest
in the ceiling. The weight was either too great, or they had quarrelled
over the burthen, --I know not which, --but the wasp fell to the ground
when they had made more than half the journey of the wall; the
courageous
little creatures, however, were nothing daunted, they resumed their
labour,
and before evening their prize was safely housed.

These ants are particularly
fond of animal
food. I once caught a tarantula; it was evening, and I wished to
examine
it by daylight. I placed it for this purpose in a recess of the wall,
under
a tumbler, leaving just breathing room. In the morning I went to
examine
my curiosity, when to my surprise it was dead and swarming with red
ants,
who had been its destroyers, and were busily engaged in making a feast
on the (to them) huge carcass of the tarantula.

These small creatures often
prove a great
annoyance by their nocturnal visits to the beds of individuals, unless
the precaution be taken of having brass vessels, filled with water, to
each of the bed-feet; the only method of effectually preventing their
approach
to the beds. I was once much annoyed by a visit from these bold
insects,
when reclining on a couch during the extreme heat of the day. I awoke
by
an uneasy sensation from their bite or sting about my ears and face,
and
found they had assembled by millions on my head; the bath was my
immediate
resource. The Natives tell me these little pests will feed on the human
body if they are not disturbed: when any one is sick there is always
great
anxiety to keep them away.

The large black ant is also an
enemy
to man; its sharp pincers inflict wounds of no trifling consequence; it
is much larger than the common fly, has long legs, is swift of foot,
and
feeds chiefly on animal substances. I fancy all the ant species are
more
or less carnivorous, but strictly epicurean in their choice of food,
avoiding
tainted or decomposed substances with the nicest discrimination.
Sweetmeats
are alluring to them; there is also some difficulty in keeping them
from
jars of sugar or preserves; and when swallowed in food, are the cause
of
much personal inconvenience.

I have often witnessed the
Hindoos, male
and female, depositing small portions of sugar near ants' nests, as
acts
of charity to commence the day with;[6] and it is the common opinion
with
the Natives generally, that wherever the red ants colonize prosperity
attends
the owners of that house. They destroy the white ants, though the
difference
in their size is as a grain of sand to a barley-corn; and on that
account
only may be viewed rather as friends than enemies to man, provided by
the
same Divine source from whence all other benefits proceed.

The locusts, so familiar by
name to the
readers of Scripture, are here seen to advantage in their occasional
visits.
I had, however, been some years in India before I was gratified by the
sight of these wonderful insects; not because of their rarity, as I had
frequently heard of their appearance and ravages, but not immediately
in
the place where I was residing, until the year 1825, which the
following
memorandum made at the time will describe.

On the third of July, between
four and
five o'clock in the afternoon, I observed a dusky brown cloud bordering
the Eastern horizon, at the distance of about four miles from my house,
which stands on an elevated situation; the colour was so unusual that I
resolved on inquiring from my oracle, Meer Hadjee Shaah, to whom I
generally
applied for elucidations of the remarkable, what such an appearance
portended.
He informed me it was a flight of locusts.

I had long felt anxious to
witness those
insects, that had been the food of St. John in the Desert, and which
are
so familiar by name from their frequent mention in Scripture; and now
that
I was about to be gratified, I am not ashamed to confess my heart
bounded
with delight, yet with an occasional feeling of sympathy for the poor
people,
whose property would probably become the prey of this devouring cloud
of
insects before the morning's dawn. Long before they had time to
advance,
I was seated in an open space in the shade of my house to watch them
more
minutely. The first sound I could distinguish was as the gentlest
breeze,
increasing as the living cloud approached; and as they moved over my
head,
the sound was like the rustling of the wind through the foliage of many
pepul-trees.[7]

It was with a feeling of
gratitude that
I mentally thanked God at the time that they were a stingless body of
insects,
and that I could look on them without the slightest apprehension of
injury.
Had this wondrous cloud of insects been the promised locust described
in
the Apocalypse, which shall follow the fifth angel's trumpet; had they
been hornets, wasps, or even the little venomous musquito, I had not
then
dared to retain my position to watch with eager eyes the progress of
this
insect family as they advanced, spreading for miles on every side with
something approaching the sublime, and presenting a most imposing
spectacle.
So steady and orderly was their pace, having neither confusion nor
disorder
in their line of march through the air, that I could not help comparing
them to the well-trained horses of the English cavalry.[8] 'Who gave
them
this order in their flight?' was in my heart and on my tongue.

I think the main body of this
army of
locusts must have occupied thirty minutes in passing over my head, but
my attention was too deeply engrossed to afford me time to consult my
time-piece.
Stragglers there were many, separated from the flight by the noises
made
by the servants and people to deter them from settling; some were
caught,
and, no doubt, converted into currie for a Mussulmaun's meal. They say
it is no common delicacy, and is ranked among the allowed animal food.

The Natives anticipate
earthquakes after
the visitation or appearance of locusts. They are said to generate in
mountains,
but I cannot find any one here able to give me an authentic account of
their natural history.

On the 18th of September, 1825,
another
flight of these wonderful insects passed over my house in exactly a
contrary
direction from those which appeared in July, viz. from the West towards
the East. The idea struck me that they might be the same swarm,
returning
after fulfilling the object of their visit to the West: but I have no
authority
on which to ground my supposition. The Natives have never made natural
history even an amusement, much less a study, although their habits are
purely those of Nature; they know the property of most herbs, roots,
and
flowers, which they cultivate, not for their beauty, but for the
benefit
they render to man and beast.[9]

I could not learn that the
flight had
rested anywhere near Futtyghur, at which place I was then living. They
are of all creatures the most destructive to vegetation, licking with
their
rough tongue the blades of grass, the leaves of trees, and green
herbage
of all kinds. Wherever they settle for the night, vegetation is
completely
destroyed; and a day of mournful consequences is sure to follow their
appearance
in the poor farmer's fields of green com.

But that which bears the most
awful resemblance
to the visitations of God's wrath on Pharaoh and the Egyptians, is, I
think,
the frightful storm of wind which brings thick darkness over the earth
at noonday, and which often occurs from the Tufaun or Haundhie,[10] as
it is called by the Natives. Its approach is first discerned by dark
columns
of yellow clouds, bordering the horizon; the alarm is instantly given
by
the Natives, who hasten to put out the fires in the kitchens, and close
the doors and windows in European houses, or with the Natives to let
down
the purdahs. No sound that can be conceived by persons who have not
witnessed
this phenomenon of Nature, is capable of conveying an idea of the
tempest.
In a few minutes total darkness is produced by the thick cloud of dust;
and the tremendous rushing wind carries the fine sand, which produces
the
darkness, through every cranny and crevice to all parts of the house;
so
that in the best secured rooms every article of furniture is covered
with
sand, and the room filled as with a dense fog: the person, dresses,
furniture,
and the food (if at meal times), are all of one dusky colour; and
though
candles are lighted to lessen the horror of the darkness, they only
tend
to make the scene of confusion more visible.

Fortunately the tempest is not
of very
long continuance. I have never known it to last more than half an hour;
yet in that time how much might have been destroyed of life and
property,
but for the interposing care of Divine mercy, whose gracious Providence
over the works of His hand is seen in such seasons as these! The sound
of thunder is hailed as a messenger of peace; the Natives are then
aware
that the fury of the tempest is spent, as a few drops of rain indicate
a speedy termination; and when it has subsided they run to see what
damage
has been done to the premises without. It often occurs, that trees are
torn up by their roots, the thatched houses and huts unroofed, and, if
due care has not been taken to quench the fires in time, huts and
bungalows
are frequently found burnt, by the sparks conveyed in the dense clouds
of sand which pass with the rapidity of lightning.

These tufauns occur generally
in April,
May, and June, before the commencement of the periodical rains. I shall
never forget the awe I felt upon witnessing the first after my arrival,
nor the gratitude which filled my heart when the light reappeared. The
Natives on such occasions gave me a bright example: they ceased not in
the hour of peril to call on God for safety and protection; and when
refreshed
by the return of calm, they forgot not that their helper was the
merciful
Being in whom they had trusted, and to whom they gave praise and
thanksgiving.

The rainy season is at first
hailed with
a delight not easily to be explained. The long continuance of the hot
winds,
--during which period (three months or more) the sky is of the colour
of
copper, without the shadow of a cloud to shield the earth from the
fiery
heat of the sun, which has, in that time, scorched the earth and its
inhabitants,
stunted vegetation, and even affected the very houses--renders the
season
when the clouds pour out their welcome moisture a period which is
looked
forward to with anxiety, and received with universal joy.

The smell of the earth after
the first
shower is more dearly loved than the finest aromatics or the purest
otta.
Vegetation revives and human nature exults in the favourable shower. As
long as the novelty lasts, and the benefit is sensibly felt, all seem
to
rejoice; but when the intervals of clouds without rain occur, and send
forth, as they separate, the bright glare untempered by a passing
breeze,
poor weak human nature is too apt to revolt against the season they
cannot
control, and sometimes a murmuring voice is heard to cry out, 'Oh, when
will the rainy season end!'

The thunder and lightning
during the
rainy season are beyond my ability to describe. The loud peals of
thunder
roll for several minutes in succession, magnificently, awfully grand.
The
lightning is proportionably vivid, yet with fewer instances of
conveying
the electric fluid to houses than might be expected when the
combustible
nature of the roofs is considered; the chief of which are thatched with
coarse dry grass. The casualties are by no means frequent; and although
trees surround most of the dwellings, yet we seldom hear of any injury
by lightning befalling them or their habitations. Fiery meteors
frequently
fall; one within my recollection was a superb phenomenon, and was
visible
for several seconds.

The shocks from earthquakes are
frequently
felt in the Upper Provinces of India;[11] I was sensible of the motion
on one occasion (rather a severe one), for at least twenty seconds. The
effect on me, however, was attended with no inconvenience beyond a
sensation
of giddiness, as if on board ship in a calm, when the vessel rolls from
side to side.

At Kannoge, now little more
than a village
in population, between Cawnpore and Futtyghur, I have rambled amongst
the
ruins of what formerly was an immense city, but which was overturned by
an earthquake some centuries past. At the present period numerous
relics
of antiquity, as coins, jewels, &c., are occasionally discovered,
particularly
after the rains, when the torrents break down fragments of the ruins,
and
carry with the streams of water the long-buried mementos of the riches
of former generations to the profit of the researching villagers, and
to
the gratification of curious travellers, who generally prove willing
purchasers.[12]

I propose giving in another
letter the
remarks I was led to make on Kannoge during my pleasant sojourn in that
retired situation, as it possesses many singular antiquities and
contains
the ashes of many holy Mussulmaun saints. The Mussulmauns, I may here
observe,
reverence the memory of the good and the pious of all persuasions, but
more particularly those of their own faith. I have sketches of the
lives
and actions of many of their sainted characters, received through the
medium
of my husband and his most amiable father, that are both amusing and
instructive;
and notwithstanding their particular faith be not in accordance with
our
own, it is only an act of justice to admit, that they were men who
lived
in the fear of God, and obeyed his commandments according to the
instruction
they had received; and which, I hope, may prove agreeable to my readers
when they come to those pages I have set apart for such articles.

My catalogue of the trying
circumstances
attached to the comforts which are to be met with in India are nearly
brought
to a close; but I must not omit mentioning one 'blessing in disguise'
which
occurs annually, and which affects Natives and Europeans
indiscriminately,
during the hot winds and the rainy season: the name of this common
visitor
is, by Europeans, called 'the prickly heat'; by Natives it is
denominated
'Gurhum dahnie'[13] (warm rash). It is a painful irritating rash, often
spreading over the whole body, mostly prevailing, however, wherever the
clothes screen the body from the power of the air; we rarely find it on
the hands or face. I suppose it to be induced by excessive
perspiration,
more particularly as those persons who are deficient in this freedom of
the pores, so essential to healthiness, are not liable to be distressed
by the rash; but then they suffer more severely in their constitution
by
many other painful attacks of fever, &c. So greatly is this rash
esteemed
the harbinger of good health, that they say in India, 'the person so
afflicted
has received his life-lease for the year'; and wherever it does not
make
its appearance, a sort of apprehension is entertained of some latent
illness.

Children suffer exceedingly
from the
irritation, which to scratch is dangerous. In Native nurseries I have
seen
applications used of pounded sandal-wood, camphor, and rose-water; with
the peasantry a cooling earth, called mooltanie mittee,[14] similar to
our fuller's-earth, is moistened with water and plastered over the back
and stomach, or wherever the rash mostly prevails; all this is but a
temporary
relief, for as soon as it is dry, the irritation and burning are as bad
as ever.

The best remedy I have met
with, beyond
patient endurance of the evil, is bathing in rain-water, which soothes
the violent sensations, and eventually cools the body. Those people who
indulge most in the good things of this life are the greatest sufferers
by this annual attack. The benefits attending temperance are sure to
bring
an ample reward to the possessors of that virtue under all
circumstances,
but in India more particularly; I have invariably observed the most
abstemious
people are the least subject to attacks from the prevailing complaints
of the country, whether fever or cholera, and when attacked the most
likely
subjects to recover from those alarming disorders.

At this moment of anxious
solicitude
throughout Europe, when that awful malady, the cholera, is spreading
from
city to city with rapid strides, the observations I have been enabled
to
make by personal acquaintance with afflicted subjects in India, may be
acceptable to my readers; although I heartily pray our Heavenly Father
may in His goodness and mercy preserve our country from that awful
calamity,
which has been so generally fatal in other parts of the world.

The Natives of India designate
cholera
by the word 'Hyza', which with them signifies 'the plague'. By this
term,
however, they do not mean that direful disorder so well known to us by
the same appellation; as, if I except the Mussulmaun pilgrims, who have
seen, felt, and described its ravages on their journey to Mecca, that
complaint
seems to be unknown to the present race of Native inhabitants of
Hindoostaun.
The word 'hyza', or 'plague', would be applied by them to all
complaints
of an epidemic or contagious nature by which the population were
suddenly
attacked, and death ensued. When the cholera first appeared in India
(which
I believe was in 1817), it was considered by the Natives a new
complaint.[15]

In all cases of irritation of
the stomach,
disordered bowels, or severe feverish symptoms, the Mussulmaun doctors
strongly urge the adoption of 'starving out the complaint'. This has
become
a law of Nature with all the sensible part of the community; and when
the
cholera first made its appearance in the Upper Provinces of
Hindoostaun,
those Natives who observed their prescribed temperance were, when
attacked,
most generally preserved from the fatal consequences of the disorder.

On the very first symptom of
cholera
occurring in a member of a Mussulmaun family, a small portion of zahur
morah[16] (derived from zahur, poison; morah, to kill or destroy, and
thence
understood as an antidote to poison, some specimens of which I have
brought
with me to England) moistened with rosewater, is promptly administered,
and, if necessary, repeated at short intervals; due care being taken to
prevent the patient from receiving anything into the stomach, excepting
rosewater, the older the more efficacious in its property to remove the
malady. Wherever zahur morah was not available, secun-gebeen[17] (syrup
of vinegar) was administered with much the same effect. The person once
attacked, although the symptoms should have subsided by this
application,
is rigidly deprived of nourishment for two or three days, and even
longer
if deemed expedient; occasionally allowing only a small quantity of
rose-water,
which they say effectually removes from the stomach and bowels those
corrupt
adhesions which, in their opinion, is the primary cause of the
complaint.

The cholera, I observed, seldom
attacked
abstemious people; when, however, this was the case, it generally
followed
a full meal; whether of rice or bread made but little difference, much
I believe depending on the general habit of the subject; as among the
peasantry
and their superiors the complaint raged with equal malignity, wherever
a second meal was resorted to whilst the person had reason to believe
the
former one had not been well digested. An instance of this occurred
under
my own immediate observation in a woman, the wife of an old and
favourite
servant. She had imprudently eaten a second dinner, before her stomach,
by her own account, had digested the preceding meal. She was not a
strong
woman, but in tolerable good health; and but a few hours previous to
the
attack I saw her in excellent spirits, without the most remote
appearance
of indisposition. The usual applications failed of success, and she
died
in a few hours. This poor woman never could be persuaded to abstain
from
food at the stated period of meals; and the Natives were disposed to
conclude
that this had been the actual cause of her sufferings and dissolution.

In 1821 the cholera raged with
even greater
violence than on its first appearance in Hindoostaun; by that time many
remedies had been suggested, through the medium of the press, by the
philanthropy
and skill of European medical practitioners, the chief of whom
recommended
calomel in large doses, from twenty to thirty grains, and opium
proportioned
to the age and strength of the patient. I never found the Natives,
however,
willing to accept this as a remedy, but I have heard that amongst
Europeans
it was practised with success. From a paragraph which I read in the
Bengal
papers, I prepared a mixture that I have reason to think, through the
goodness
of Divine Providence, was beneficial to many poor people who applied
for
it in the early stages of the complaint, and who followed the rule laid
down of complete abstinence, until they were out of danger from a
relapse,
and even then for a long time to be cautious in the quantity and
digestible
quality of their daily meal. The mixture was as follows:

Brandy, one pint; oil or spirit
of peppermint,
if the former half an ounce--if the latter, one ounce; ground black
pepper,
two ounces; yellow rind of oranges grated, without any of the white,
one
ounce; these were kept closely stopped and occasionally shook, a
table-spoonful
administered for each dose, the patient well covered up from the air,
and
warmth created by blankets or any other means within their power,
repeating
the close as the case required.

Of the many individuals who
were attacked
with this severe malady in our house very few died, and those, it was
believed,
were victims to an imprudent determination to partake of food before
they
were convalescent, --individuals who never could be prevailed on to
practise
abstemious habits, which we had good reason for believing was the best
preventive against the complaint during those sickly seasons. The
general
opinion entertained both by Natives and Europeans, at those awful
periods,
was, that the cholera was conveyed in the air; very few imagined that
it
was infectious, as it frequently attacked some members of a family and
the rest escaped, although in close attendance--even such as failed not
to pay the last duties to the deceased according to Mussulmaun custom,
which exposed them more immediately to danger if infection existed;
--yet
no fears were ever entertained, nor did I ever hear an opinion
expressed
amongst them, that it had been or could be conveyed from one person to
another.

Native children generally
escaped the
attack, and I never heard of an infant being in the slightest degree
visited
by this malady. It is, however, expedient, to use such precautionary
measures
as sound sense and reason may suggest, since wherever the cholera has
appeared,
it has proved a national calamity, and not a partial scourge to a few
individuals;
all are alike in danger of its consequences, whether the disorder be
considered
infectious or not, and therefore the precautions I have urged in India,
amongst the Native communities, I recommend with all humility here,
that
cleanliness and abstemious diet be observed among all classes of people.

In accordance with the
prescribed antidote
to infection from scarlet fever in England, I gave camphor (to be worn
about the person) to the poor in my vicinity, and to all the Natives
over
whom I had either influence or control; I caused the rooms to be
frequently
fumigated with vinegar or tobacco, and labaun[18] (frankincense) burnt
occasionally. I would not, however, be so presumptuous to insinuate
even
that these were preventives to cholera, yet in such cases of universal
terror as the one in question, there can be no impropriety in
recommending
measures which cannot injure, and may benefit, if only by giving a
purer
atmosphere to the room inhabited by individuals either in sickness or
in
health. But above all things, aware that human aid or skill can never
effect
a remedy unaided by the mercy and power of Divine Providence, let our
trust
be properly placed in His goodness, 'who giveth medicine to heal our
sickness',
and humbly intreat that He may be pleased to avert the awful calamity
from
our shores which threatens and disturbs Europe generally at this moment.

Were we to consult Nature
rather than
inordinate gratifications, we should find in following her dictates the
best security to health at all times, but more particularly in seasons
of prevailing sickness. Upon the first indications of cholera, I have
observed
the stomach becomes irritable, the bowels are attacked by griping
pains,
and unnatural evacuations; then follow sensations of faintness,
weakness,
excessive thirst, the pulse becomes languid, the surface of the body
cold
and clammy, whilst the patient feels inward burning heat, with spasms
in
the legs and arms.

In the practice of Native
doctors, I
have noticed that they administer saffron to alleviate violent sickness
with the best possible effect. A case came under my immediate
observation,
of a young female who had suffered from a severe illness similar in
every
way to the cholera; it was not, however, suspected to be that
complaint,
because it was not then prevailing at Lucknow: after some days the
symptoms
subsided, excepting the irritation of her stomach, which, by her
father's
account, obstinately rejected everything offered for eleven days. When
I saw her, she was apparently sinking under exhaustion; I immediately
tendered
the remedy recommended by my husband, viz. twelve grains of saffron,
moistened
with a little rose-water; and found with real joy that it proved
efficacious;
half the quantity in doses were twice repeated that night, and in the
morning
the patient was enabled to take a little gruel, and in a reasonable
time
entirely recovered her usual health and strength.

I have heard of people being
frightened
into an attack of cholera by apprehending the evil: this, however, can
only occur with very weak minds, and such as have neglected in
prosperity
to prepare their hearts for adversity. When I first reached India, the
fear of snakes, which I expected to find in every path, embittered my
existence.
This weakness was effectually corrected by the wise admonitions of Meer
Hadjee Shaah, 'If you trust in God, he will preserve you from every
evil;
be assured the snake has no power to wound without permission.'

===========

[1] The Cantharis
resicatoria
is imported into India for use in blisters. But there is a local
substitute,
mylabris,
of which there are several varieties (Watt, Economic Dictionary,
ii. 128, v. 309).[2] The reference is perhaps to
what
is known as the Dehli Boil, a form of oriental sore, like the Biskra
Button,
Aleppo Evil, Lahore and Multan Sore (Yule, Hobson-Jobson, 302);
possibly only to hot-weather boils.[3] Chadar.[4] For a good account of the ways
of
Indian ants, see M. Thornton, Haunts and Hobbies of an Indian
Official,
2 ff.[5] Khidmatgar.[6] The habit of laying sugar near
ants'
nests is a piece of fertility magic, and common to Jains and
Vishnu-worshippers;
see J. Fryor, A New Account of East India and Persia, Hakluyt
Society
ed., I, 278.[7] Pipal, Ficus
religiosa.[8] An esteemed friend has since
referred
me to the second chapter of the prophet Joel, part of the seventh and
eighth
verses, as a better comparison. [Author.][9] The variety of locust seen in
India
is acridium peregrinum, which is said to range throughout the
arid
region from Algeria to N.W. India. They have extended as far south as
the
Kistna District of Madras (Watt, Economic Dictionary, VI, part
i,
154).[10] Tufan, storm, andhi,
darkness.[11] Earthquakes tend generally to
be
more frequent in the regions of extra-peninsular India, where the rocks
have been more recently folded, than in the more stable Peninsula.
Serious
earthquakes have occurred recently in Assam, June, 1897, and in Kangra,
Panjab, April, 1907. (Imperial Gazetteer of India, 1907, i. 98
f.)[12] Kanauj, in the Farrukhabad
District,
United Provinces of Agra and Oudh. The ruin of the great city was due
to
attacks by Mahmud of Ghazni, A.D. 1019, and by Shihab-ud-din, Muhammad
Ghori, in 1194.[13] Garm dahani, hot
inflammation,
prickly heat.[14] Multani mitti,
'Multan Earth',
a soft, drab-coloured saponaceous earth, like fuller's earth, used in
medicine
and for cleansing the hair.[15] Cholera (haiza) was
known
to the Hindus long before the arrival of the Portuguese, who first
described
it (Yule, Hobson-Jobson, 586 ff.). The attention of English
physicians
was first seriously called to it in 1817, when it broke out in the
Jessore
District of Bengal, and in the camp of Marquess Hastings in the Datiya
State, Central India. (See Sleeman, Rambles, 163, 232.)[16] Zahr-mohra, 'poison
vanguard':
the bezoar stone, believed to be an antidote to poison (Yule, Hobson-Jobson,
90 f.).[17] Sikanjabin, oxymel,
vinegar,
lime-juice, or other acid, mixed with sugar or honey.[18] Loban.